Telling
by Willow1593
Summary: Arthur came to a decision. If Merlin wasn't going to tell him, he'd have to tell Merlin. SLASH, Arthur/Merlin. Rated for innuendo. Er. Very, very obvious innuendo. Because I'm not good at subtle.
1. Chapter 1

The tornado, whirling through the makeshift huts of the villiage and knocking half the bandits off their horses. The other half galloped away, as the people of Ealdor, realising their sudden advantage, beat down with their sticks and pitchforks. Their home! And they would defend it.

But one man, even as he fought, wondered. Whirlwinds like that did not just appear from nowhere. He thrust his sword through a bandit, almost absentmindedly, and, when the battle was done, strode towards the source of it with a dark look on his face. Because he knew, he knew what he had seen. Merlin, one hand raised, eyes glowing gold....

And then the boy died, and he said he had been the sorcerer. Merlin did not dispute it, though in the beginning he looked like he was going to. So Arthur tried to believe it. All he had seen was dark hair through a cloud of dust, and he could of course have been mistaken, had to believe he had been mistaken, because otherwise why hadn't Merlin told him? They were friends, weren't they?

But he knew why. Merlin thought that Arthur would go straight to the guards, and ask questions later. And to be honest, he didn't know what he would have done, presented with the information from Merlin with no time to consider it. But having figured it for himself, with an excuse which would save Merlin if his father ever found out what had happened at the villiage.

And so he spent the journey home to Camelot riding alone at the front, and thinking. And thinking, he remembered the many unexplained events which had seemed to happen since the dark haired boy had waltzed into his life and challenged him to a duel.

And he began to realise exactly how many times he and his father could and would have died if not for Merlin's magic. Then surely magic couldn't be all bad?

Could it?


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur watched Merlin very closely over the next few weeks. At first, this was to determine whether he actually had conjoured the whirlwind. Arthur was becoming more and more used to the idea that Merlin was a sorcerer, but somehow couldn't imagine the possibility of turning him over to his death. He was, by 2 months after their return from Ealdor, convinced that his friendship with Merlin outweighed duty to his father or to the immoral, outdated laws of the land.

Not that he had any proof that Merlin even had magic. He had not seen so much as a glimmer of gold in those eyes, but the increased observation had led him to notice how blue those eyes actually were. Arthur had taken to watching Merlin muck out his horse, to see whether he did it by magic. Of course, this plan had the slight problem that with Arthur standing there in chainmail pointing out bits which he'd missed, Merlin was unlikely to use magic unless to turn round and kill his master. If looks could kill, not even Nimueh could have raised him after some of Merlin's current facial expressions. It did, however, give Arthur a wonderful view as Merlin bent down over the broom...

Arthur could not actually believe he'd thought that. Since when had he started looking at Merlin lustfully? When had he first noticed that those lips were gorgeously pink, that hair always adorably tousled....

STOP! Arthur returned to the question of magic. Though he had not seen Merlin actually _do_ any since Ealdor, the chores which he didn't watch over seemed to get done in a far shorter time than would actually take to complete them. Cleaning the armour, for example. As muddy, scratched and bashed as Arthur managed to get his armour, Merlin would always have it pristine and shiny within half an hour.

The prince was still waiting for Merlin to tell him. Their friendship was close: he had gone to help in Ealdor hadn't he? He still wasn't sure why he'd done that, but he'd just felt that Merlin needed him, so he was there. They had become even closer since, and Arthur was surprised to find that he missed his unruly manservant when he wasn't around. They had become so close that Arthur often used Merlin as a sounding board for his wilder ideas, and he had begun to seek his manservant out for no other reason than that he wanted to talk to him. They spoke for hours about random subjects, from how long Gwen and Morgana had been sleeping together (Arthur thought 3 months, Merlin was closer to the truth on 9), to the ideal length of a sword (this was mainly Arthur lecturing on the difference between 3 ft and 3ft 1 inch).

But they had not strayed onto the topic of magic, both avoiding it strenuously. Still, Arthur thought they were close enough that Merlin really should tell him. Didn't he trust him?

But Merlin said nothing.

Arthur came to a decision, when he got tired of waiting. If Merlin wasn't going to tell him, then he'd have to tell Merlin.


	3. Chapter 3

When Arthur decided to do something, it got done straight away. The prince was not good at subtlety, so what he did was go to Merlin's room, sit on the bed next to his manservant, and say it outright.

"When are you going to tell me that you're a sorcerer?"

The look on Merlin's face was comical. The ever-so-slightly misshapen head twisted into a grimace, the pink lips in a confused frown.

"Er..."

"I've known since Ealdor, you see. And I'd hoped that you'd trust me enough to tell me, but apparently not, so I thought I'd better say it myself, assure you that I'm not going to the palace guard, and that we're still friends."

He got up and headed for the door. A gobsmacked Merlin sat in silence for a few seconds.

Arthur put his hand on the handle. Merlin chose that moment to regain his senses, jumping up and grabbing him by the arm. They turned together, Arthur's back to the wall and Merlin in front, staring into his face with the expression of the last puppy in the box.

"I..." he mouthed.

"Oh hell," Arthur replied, and kissed him.

They broke apart for air, after what seemed like hours.

"I'm not attracted to men, you know," panted Arthur. "Thought I'd better make that clear now."

"Nor am I," said Merlin.

It took Arthur a couple of seconds to work that one out. "Wait, are you saying I'm womanly?"

"Nope. I'm saying that for you I'll make an exception to the rule."

"Oh good."

"And judging by the thing sticking into my hip, my liege, so will you."

Arthur was getting annoyed by all this talking. "Shut up."

He eventually found that the most effective way to make sure of this was to cover Merlin's mouth. In this case, with his own lips. And yet, even this was not completely effective.

"Mmpgh."

He drew back. "Shut up." Now, what could he put in Merlin's mouth to fill it and stop him trying to speak for once? Ah yes. Merlin looked slightly afraid at his wicked grin.

"You're still my servant, aren't you? Kneel."


End file.
